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by Karen Stivali


  She smiled wide and set her chin on his chest, looping her finger in tiny circles against his smooth skin. “I need you to take charge more often.”

  “I take charge.”

  “Not like you used to. Remember when you used to pin me to the bed or take me against a wall?”

  “I was pretty good at that, wasn’t I?”

  “Sometimes I need you to show me that you want me.” She ran her thumb along his lower lip as their gazes connected. “That you really want me. That there’s something about me that sets off an urge you can’t control. I don’t need it all the time, but every now and then I need you to just…take me.”

  He rolled away from her and walked to the dresser, grabbing a jar from the Spice Rack. “Please, darling, allow me to take charge.” He dramatically swished his hand through the air. Casting back the rumpled sheets, he sat next to her on the bed and unscrewed the lid.

  “Is this for tonight?”

  “I was thinking we should set the stage for next time. Plus it’s my turn, and I want plenty of time to think about what I want to do.”

  “Mmm. I can’t wait to hear what it says.” She flopped over to her stomach and eagerly propped herself up on her elbows.

  He unscrewed the cap and uncurled the scroll. His forehead wrinkled but he nodded in agreement and rubbed his chin with his hand.

  “What does it say?”

  He cleared his throat. “Tell your partner your most private fantasy and ask them to help you make it come true.”

  “Wow. The Spice Rack doesn’t mess around.”

  “No, it does not, my dear.” He tucked the scroll back into the jar and set it on the bedside table.

  “Are you going to tell me what your most private fantasy is?”

  He smiled wide and leaned forward to peck her on the nose. “How about I get back to you on that?”

  Chapter Two

  Brian hung up the phone and stared at the receiver, amazed he’d had the balls to call Michael, his best friend from college, and ask for his help. His very personal help. Olivia’s voice rang out from the hall as she told the girls to get dressed for school.

  “Hey,” she said, breezing into the kitchen in a pair of yoga pants that showed off every inch of her fit and healthy curves. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?” She poured herself a cup of coffee and arched her eyebrows at him as she drank.

  He rose from the barstool at the kitchen island and wrapped his arm around her waist as soon as she was within reach. “I’m not going to work today.” He nuzzled her neck, softly kissing the velvety skin of her throat.

  “What’s wrong?” Even though her tone was initially concerned, she giggled and squirmed when he nudged at the especially sensitive spot behind her ear with his nose. “Stop it. What’s gotten into you?”

  “You need to pack an overnight bag for the girls.”

  She grasped his upper arms and stared at him in total confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “I am running away with my bride for a weekend of debauchery and utter hedonism.”

  Her eyes became like saucers. “You are?”

  “Yes, and my parents are picking the girls up after school and keeping them until Sunday afternoon.”

  Her facial features became painted with delight. “They are?”

  “Yes. Now stop asking so many questions and get the girls’ bag packed. I’ll run them to school. You need to go take a shower and put on something very sexy and suitable for a weekend in an insanely expensive hotel in the city.”

  “We’re going into Manhattan?”

  “Again with the questions.” He took her hand and turned the platinum wedding band on her finger. “Pack your own bag too, but don’t go overboard. I’m taking you shopping.”

  “What kind of shopping?”

  “Why? Is there one kind of shopping that’s better than some other kind?”

  “No.” She frowned. “I just want to know what you’re up to.”

  “I am,” he traced his finger along her jaw and pressed it to her lips, “planning on showing my incredibly hot, sexy wife exactly how much I want her. In every way possible. Every way.”

  “Does this have to do with the Spice Rack?”

  “It does. But that’s all I’m telling you right now.”

  “Sounds mysterious.” Olivia eased up onto her tiptoes and her mouth grazed his. “And fun.”

  “Darling, you have no idea,” he whispered against her lips. “Now go get ready.”

  She smiled and turned on her heel, which he answered with a smack on her butt. “Ooh,” she cooed, traipsing down the hall and wagging her hips, tormenting him with every move she made.

  There’s more where that came from.

  * * * * *

  An hour later they were in the car on the way into the city, stuck in a bit of late commuter traffic, but Brian was anxious to get their weekend started. He glanced at Olivia, wearing a red cardigan that showed some amazing contours, a tight black skirt and knee-high black boots.

  “Have I told you lately how much I love those boots?” he asked. He was rarely able to convince her to wear them, but they made his pulse race like crazy.

  She reached down and smoothed her hand over the Italian leather. “They are cute, aren’t they?” At barely five foot four, she wasn’t absurdly tall in the heels, but they gave her a stature that he found particularly sexy—powerful and a bit fierce.

  “Uh, cute isn’t the word I would use.”

  “I know. Jessica and I have a name for them. They’re CFM boots.”

  “CFM?”

  Leaning closer to him, she murmured, “Come fuck me. Get it?”

  Brian shifted in his seat. Any time Olivia said “fuck me”, the lower half of his body was immediately running on pure adrenaline. “Oh, I get it.”

  She drew a line down his thigh with her finger, sending very specific messages straight to his cock. “Why won’t you tell me what we’re doing this weekend?”

  He changed lanes, hoping to get into a faster stream of traffic so they could get to the hotel. If she was going to keep touching him like that and leaning into him, there might need to be a detour to a gas station or rest stop and that was not the classiest or most romantic way to start their weekend of seduction.

  “You wanted me to take charge, I’m taking charge. Which means you need to sit back, relax and enjoy the ride.”

  “Enjoy the ride, eh? Literally?”

  He smirked, glad he had his sunglasses on to hide his own nervousness. “Would you expect any less from me?”

  Almost everything he’d planned for the weekend was a slam dunk. Almost everything. He was still unsure how his plan for Saturday night would go over. There was no question he would discuss it with her beforehand, the question was when. Bringing up the subject of his longest-held and most secret fantasy was probably not a topic for I-95 in broad daylight. And after all these years, he still hadn’t fully come to terms with it. Why do I want this?

  He’d known Olivia for a decade; she was his best friend and the person he loved most in the world, but some subjects weren’t easily broached. Funny how sometimes familiarity could almost put up walls. That was part of the reason he was so thankful to have her—Olivia called him out on stuff, kept him honest. Hell, she’d certainly done that last night.

  As he’d struggled to sleep last night, everything she said echoed in his head. She was right. Their sex life had become comparatively tame, a fraction of its former excitement. Not that he needed Liv to swing from the ceiling every night, but he could admit that he wanted to get closer to being the adventuresome couple they’d been for the first few years. That couple was full of passion. The heat was still there between them—they just hadn’t been tapping into it like they should have.

  This weekend will give us a real shot at that. As long as she’s up for everything.

  * * * * *

  Brian wouldn’t stop ogling her in the elevator. Every heated glance only upped Olivia’s anticipat
ion of their weekend together, made her wonder what he was cooking up in that gorgeous head of his. With the bellboy’s back to them, she stifled a giggle and silently slapped Brian’s hand when he hooked a finger under the hem of her skirt and hiked it several inches.

  “You’re bad,” she mouthed, feigning indignation.

  He did nothing more than wink and flash his roguish smile.

  Once they got to their room, Brian couldn’t have made it any more obvious that he wanted the bellboy out of there, ASAP. “That’s great, Champ. We can take it from here.” He waved a twenty-dollar bill in the air as if he were dangling a carrot before a horse, while the lanky young man took the empty ice bucket from the bar.

  “Yes sir. I’ll be right back with ice.” He glanced at Olivia. His cheeks flushed red when his wide eyes met hers and he held the connection a few seconds too long.

  Olivia grinned at Brian, who was now wearing a look of deep concern.

  “I think we can get our own ice, uh,” Brian pointed at the nametag on the bellboy’s perfectly pressed uniform, “Carson. We’re good. Really.” He pressed the tip into Carson’s hand and clapped him on the back.

  “Yes sir. Of course, sir.” His eyes darted back to Olivia, but he quickly cast them to the floor. “Just ask for me at the front desk if you need anything at all.” He ambled to the door and Brian promptly flipped the latch when he was gone.

  “I daresay young Carson has a crush on you.” Brian took off his black leather jacket and tossed it onto the bed.

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “He’s a kid.” She wandered across the room and peered through the window overlooking the city and a sliver of Central Park. Brian had spared no expense, booking a spacious suite that included a luxurious seating area, towering windows and the most magnificent king bed with crisp, white sheets and a fluffy duvet.

  “The room is beautiful, Bri. You really didn’t have to go so overboard for just a weekend.”

  He was right there behind her, his strong fingers raking her skirt higher on her thighs. “It’s not overboard if it’s for you,” he murmured into her hair.

  She raised her arms above her head and clasped her fingers behind his neck, craning to give him a kiss. The movement of his lips was so intoxicating that by the time he’d hitched the skirt up to her panties, she remembered she was standing in front of a window.

  She twisted from his grasp as her hands flew to lower her skirt. “Somebody will see us,” she blurted.

  “So?” His finger along her collarbone left behind warm tingles. “That guy over in that office building probably has the most boring job ever. We might make his day.” He deftly unbuttoned her cardigan and tugged the sweater past her shoulders and to the floor. “Hell, we might make his month.” His lips wandered to the center point of her bra, where he kissed his way along the lacy edge.

  Olivia raked her fingers into his hair as he again pulled the skirt higher, this time beyond her hips, bunched around her waist. “Let me just take it—” Before she could say “off”, he lifted her and plopped her down on the edge of the writing desk next to the window. Fortunately, the silk drapes seemed to block most of the view.

  “Lift your hips,” he ordered as he grasped the sides of her panties and yanked them down her legs, past the black leather boots. He dropped to his knees and spread her legs with his hands.

  Anticipation took hold as he began to kiss her inner thigh in a straight line, starting at her knee and headed due north. He hitched her calf over his shoulder, taking his sweet time, inching along and driving her crazy in the process. She wiggled to the very edge of the desk. He quietly laughed against her skin. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll get there,” he murmured as he continued along his torturous path.

  She gathered a breath and leaned back, propping herself up with her arms. Seeing him get closer to where she wanted him was getting to be too much, so her eyes fluttered shut as she decided to relax and let him have his way.

  Each kiss had been delicate, but they became decidedly more eager when he reached her mound. Warm fingers separated her fevered skin as his lips sank against her clit and he sucked. His tongue circled the sensitive bundle and a heat as strong as the midday sun quickly built between her legs. The tension mounted when he drove a finger inside, thrusting artfully.

  “Liv, you are so wet,” he said, withdrawing his hand for only a moment before adding a second finger. Electrical pulses, like flipping on a switch, shot straight to her clit when he curled his fingers and zeroed in on her G-spot.

  She dropped her head back and moaned. “Right there, honey. Right there.” He hadn’t gone down on her with that much enthusiasm in months. The pressure doubled with every stroke, every lick of her clit pushing her to new heights until she mercifully tumbled over the edge. Her body pulled on his hand with every wave of relief. Damn. Her eyes opened as she gasped for breath. She felt his mouth gently pressing against her inner thigh, working back to where he’d started. “That was unbelievable.”

  He rose from his kneeling position and planted his hands on either side of her hips. “Good.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips, prodding lightly with his tongue. “I’m glad.”

  Olivia wrapped her legs around his waist before he could step away. “Your turn,” she purred, digging her hands into his hair and spiking the intensity of the kiss.

  “Where do you want me?” he asked.

  Her gaze traveled across the room, settling on the sofa upholstered with a sumptuous gold-and-cream tapestry. “Over here.” She took his hand and led him to sit on the couch, where she towered over him. “Want me to keep the boots on?”

  “Absolutely, the CFM boots need to stay on. I think it’s time to lose the skirt and bra though.” He sat back and folded his hands behind his head, making his impressive erection quite evident in his snug-fitting jeans. “Best part is I get to watch the show.”

  She smiled and reached back to unzip the skirt. With a wiggle of her legs, the garment slid past her hips to the floor. Brian sat forward and eased his sweater and t-shirt over his head, revealing his well-defined chest and the dark happy trail of hair leading below the waistband of his pants. Reaching behind herself a second time, she unclasped the black lace bra and rid herself of that as well.

  “Much better.” Brian reached out to twist one of her nipples as Olivia knelt before him.

  “Mmm.” She made quick work of the button and zipper on his jeans. “Let’s see what you have waiting for me.”

  He raised his hips and she pulled his pants and boxer briefs down his legs, freeing his rigid cock. Olivia had always held a strange pride at the fact that her husband had better than average endowments, but wasn’t so big that he was imposing. Perfect. He’s absolutely perfect.

  She placed her hands on his thighs and started at the base, dragging her tongue along the underside of his dick. A guttural groan left his mouth and she repeated the action several times, enjoying her influence over him. His hips twitched and she sensed that he was ready for far more, so she wrapped her fingers around his length and began to roll her pursed lips over the tip.

  She sucked until her lips circled the sensitive ridge and let him go with a pop. Over and over she continued while pumping his smooth skin with one hand and fondling his balls with the other. He grew even harder in her hand and his breaths became choppy and short.

  “Oh yeah, Liv. Just like that,” he gasped before he dropped his head against the back of the couch. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  Olivia pulled her hair back in a twist and doubled her pace, more importantly tightening the grip of both her hand and lips. “Mmm,” she hummed when she sensed just how close he was.

  He grabbed at the edge of the sofa cushion as tension rippled beneath the surface of his skin, rocketing out of him as he called her name. She stilled herself as his body clutched and relaxed, many times over. Carefully she let him go and pressed her lips to the soft skin of his hip.

  “Incredible, honey,” he said, reaching down to cradle her head in his hands. He
leaned forward and placed a single kiss on her nose.

  She rested her elbows on his thighs and peered up into his eyes, which were so peaceful in icy blue. He rarely looked that relaxed anymore. A few hours into their weekend and things had already been better than she could have hoped for. “What do you want to do now? Maybe a nap?”

  “I was thinking shopping. We can discuss the rest of the weekend while we’re out.”

  “What are we shopping for?”

  “Lingerie.” He bit his lip, leaving behind a tiny red mark. “Very unusual lingerie.”

  Chapter Three

  “These bras cost more than a trip to the grocery store,” Olivia whispered, thumbing her way through the racks.

  “So?” Brian answered, tracing his fingers along her spine. “I make plenty of money and you deserve it.”

  “But you don’t need to treat me to this. The hotel and the weekend away is enough.”

  “This isn’t just for you, you know.” He pecked her on the nose before handing her a lacy dark-purple teddy along with several other selections he’d made. “Now let’s get your cute little ass into that fitting room.”

  They strolled to the back of the store where the manager, Chantalle, had perfectly set the stage for a man to spend an absurd amount of money on his wife or girlfriend.

  The softly lit dressing room had black-and-white flocked wallpaper in an ornate brocade pattern along with a high-backed velvet upholstered chair that had the unmistakable look of a king’s throne. Clearly, they’ve done this before. Champagne was on ice, two glasses waiting.

  Chantalle hung the array of intricate garments on hooks and placed several pairs of panties on a long upholstered bench. “Please let me know if I can be of any assistance. You will otherwise not be disturbed.” She stepped toward the door but turned. “Mr. Saunders, the item you inquired about is on the settee.” With that, she quietly closed the door.

  Brian poured a glass of sparkling wine for Olivia and one for himself. “Cheers. Here’s to an amazing weekend with my very hot wife.” He took a sip, which softened the apprehension that had cropped up yet again. His plans for Saturday might not happen. He still hadn’t heard back from Michael and there was no Plan B.

 

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